5 Times Of What?
by mezzo88
Summary: 4 times someone questions Rachel's sanity because of Quinn, and 1 time Quinn questions her own.
1. Chapter 1

this is my first attempt and Glee fanfiction, and consequently, my first attempt at Faberry. English is not my first language. Just so you know…

**The four times someone questions Rachel's sanity because of Quinn, and the one time Quinn questions her own.**

**1 – Breaking up with Finn**

"You're breaking up with me because _Quinn_ got a _new haircut_?"

When it was worded like that, it really sounded ridiculous and it showed on her face as much as it showed on Finn's. "I'm not breaking up with you. I can't break up with you. We're not together."

"But…in New York…the dinner, the kiss…Bella Notte!"

Rachel sighed. Half of that wasn't even his idea, and it hadn't been _him_ serenading her with Bella Notte, but rather Artie and Puck serenading them, and as romantic as that was, it wasn't enough.

"That was beautiful, Finn, but it doesn't mean we're in a relationship."

"I just don't get it. You wanted this, us, for years, Rach, and now you're telling me _no_ because…what? Because Quinn has shorter hair?" It really didn't come down to Quinn getting her hair cut in New York, but he'd cut her off the second she started to explain and said those words, and now her prepared speech went down the drain because he couldn't seem to focus on anything else.

"I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just telling you how I feel. I can't be with you, and yes, that revelation came to me when I saw Quinn's new haircut, but it's not _because_ of her new haircut. That would be just shallow and stupid." Shallow and stupid and all kinds of crazy, and she was neither of those things. She simply wasn't in love with him anymore, and it took Quinn's visit to the hairdresser to make her realize that. Quinn with her new look, standing in front of the Empire State Building, carefree and joyful and breathtakingly beautiful, making her feel so much more than Finn ever had. How could she be with him if just looking at someone else made her so much happier than he ever had with anything he'd done?

"You can't make life decisions based on something like that."

Obviously, he wasn't going to let it go, and if he insisted on being an insufferable prick, she wasn't going to continue being nice. "I would hardly call this a life decision."

"That hurts."

Not calling their break-up a life decision hurt him? What about the time he told her she annoyed him to no end but that she still had great breasts? What about the time he lied to her about sleeping with Santana? "We've tried so many times, Finn, and it never lasted more than a few weeks. Do you honestly think this time would be different?"

"I don't know. You can never know if you don't try, right?"

"But I'm tired of trying. I want to finally get it right."

"How can you get it right when your best intentions keep making a mess of things?"

Did he really just quote her own lyrics back at her?

"Now I'm torn between being flattered that you remember the lyrics to my song and angry that you use them to insult me."

"Well, excuse me for not easily accepting the fact that you leave me for Quinn's hair!"

Not this again…"I'm not…argh! You know what? Fine. I'm breaking up with you because Quinn cut her hair. Are you happy now?"

He wasn't, and he told her as much, but she'd already given up on the conversation and tuned him out. He didn't want to understand and she didn't want to explain anymore. They were history and it didn't break her heart.

It was time to move on.


	2. Chapter 2

**2 – Living in denial**

"Did you really think you'd be able to hide from _Quinn_?"

"No." She hadn't been trying to hide. She'd been trying to keep as much distance as possible, so that she wouldn't have to actually hide.

"You're friends. But you tried to bribe Tina to switch places with you so that you wouldn't have to room with Quinn on your next trip to New York. How is that not hiding? You've been throwing offers of friendship at her for years, and now that you're finally getting somewhere, you avoid spending time with her at all costs." That was the most Santana had ever said to her outside of Glee club, and when the Latina continued with "Do you even know how much that hurts Quinn?" Rachel felt like she would throw up any second. She wasn't going to answer that question. She didn't want to think about hurting Quinn. "How did she find out about the room switch anyway?"

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Tina told Mercedes, and you know how she is – everyone knows about it by now, and everyone's talking."

"Why is it such a big deal?"

"You made it a big deal."

"I did not. I simply asked Tina to-"

"You offered her solos. You, Rachel Berry. Solos. Of course it's a big deal." She should have thought of that. She should have realized that no matter how casual she pretended to be, her desperate actions would betray her.

"I get it. So, Quinn's angry with me?"

"Yeah."

"Meaning that even if Tina is not agreeable to my offer, Quinn will make sure to find a way for us to not stay in the same room, right?"

"You're not that lucky."

Of course she wasn't. God hated her. "And why the hell am I not, Santana?"

"You know how Quinn gets. She may not want to room with you anymore because you hurt her, but she's going to do it anyway, just to prove a point. In fact, she's going to make sure you two will have a room for yourself, since you so obviously don't want that."

"This is hell."

"Well, I wouldn't…"

"No, no, I mean it. Three days in a hotel room with Quinn. Alone. This is my own, personal hell."

"Look, we'll be spending the days in the theatre, and at night, I'm going to drag her out to party. You'll only have to sleep in the same room, and you'll probably both be too tired to even talk to each other."

"Sleep?"

"Yes, Berry, at some point in those three days you're going to have to sleep."

"Oh god, I'm going to have to lock myself in the bathroom."

"Okay… This attitude? Not helping. Get your shit together, RuPaul."

"You can yell at me if you want to." As soon as she said it, she had to suppress a groan. Telling Santana it was okay to yell was like telling an alcoholic that there was a six-pack of free beer in the fridge. A sick-pack of his _favourite_ beer. She was Rachel Berry – when had anyone ever needed permission or an invitation to yell at her?

"You mean like I'd hold back otherwise?"

Case in point. "It's okay to be angry, Santana." Well, _this time_, anyway. Santana was the only one who knew why Rachel had broken up with Finn, except for Finn himself, and even he didn't know the real reason. He still thought she'd broken his heart over a haircut. "I'm being a bitch, ignoring Quinn and making you stand in the middle of us, and for that, I'm sorry." "A bitch? You are many things, Treasure Trail, starting with obnoxious as hell, and you dress like your closet threw up on you, but you're not a bitch." Rachel supposed that was as close to a compliment as she was going to get, and she took a minute to store the thought away, even if it was not what she had been aiming for.

"If not a bitch, what does it make me?"

"A coward. I get that it's scary to tell Quinn that you have feelings for her, but going out of your way to avoid her, making her think you don't want even want to be her friend, bribing others so you don't have to spend time with her in New York, that's the cowardly way out."

„But this is my own…-"

„…personal hell. Yeah, I know. But she's your friend. It shouldn't be hell to spend time with her."

„I shouldn't be in love with her."

„But you are. You are her friend and you are in love with her, and there's no way around that."

Oh _god_. „What am I going to do?" Santana would know. Santana always knew what to do.

„I have no idea."

Great.


	3. Chapter 3

**3 – That mother-daugher thing**

"Quinn is a bitch."

Santana looked entirely unapologetic when she said this, and Rachel supposed it was only fitting. Of all the insults Santana threw out every day, this one was actually deserved. And this was amusing, because Santana used the word bitch so much that it didn't even sound so bad anymore when it came from her, and that was oddly reassuring.

"She certainly seems to try."

"Rachel, I just want you to know…" The Latina didn't finish the sentence, but it was more than enough, because she had just for the first time used Rachel's real name, not RuPaul or Stubbles or Treasure Tail, but _Rachel_, and no matter how sad it was that her own name sounded foreign coming from the cheerleader's lips, it was enough. Enough of a positive moment for her to step back from the pain in her heart and realize what was happening around her. Santana was trying to be nice to her. Santana thought Quinn had overstepped a line with Rachel. Santana felt bad for her. The world was about to end, and she had brought that upon herself.

"It's my own fault that she's back to hating me again. We were friends but then I ignored her because I couldn't handle my feelings, because I didn't want to be just her friend but was too afraid to try to be anything more. I hurt her, and now she hurts me."

"But what she said to you…" Luckily, Santana didn't finish this sentence either, the echo of the words still resounding in Rachel's ears, causing her physical pain. _You have Shelby's genes, but Beth will have her upbringing. She'll be talented like you, but people will actually like her. My kid will have the mother you should've had, and that will make all the difference. _It was true. Unfair and mean and painful, but true. Shelby didn't want anything to do with Rachel, her own daughter, but she had adopted Beth, Quinn's baby. It wasn't Quinn's fault, she just wanted the best for her baby, but the way she had said it…it was almost too much to bear.

"I don't want to think about it." Rachel's eyes were distant and her hands were fiddling with a pen.

Santana glanced at the neatly folded piece of paper in front of Rachel as if it would blow up in their faces any second. Or as if she was disgusted by it. And maybe she was.

"If you sign this, there's no turning back."

"I know." The pen was tossed back and forth between her hands, her eyes still glued to the papers on the table. The papers with which she would sign away her copy right to five songs she had written and composed. Her heart and soul in five songs she had worked ages for. Five songs she wanted to use for Julliard. Five songs Shelby wanted to use for the new show she had put together. Five songs she wanted to use without crediting Rachel. In exchange for that, she would let Quinn see her baby, get to know her daughter, build a relationship with her.

There really wasn't much to think about. It was only five songs. She could write five new ones. But this was her mother. Her mother taking something from her that was important to her. Her mother keeping a distance. Her mother asking a sacrifice of her. And what for? For doing something she had promised Quinn all along? This wasn't about five stupid songs. This was about her mother making a statement. This was about her mother seeing a chance at keeping Rachel out of her life and taking it. She knew that. And, apparently, Santana did, too. "If you sign this, you're putting Quinn's mother-daughter dream over yours. You're signing away your right to a mother."

"I grew up just fine without one."

There was nothing Santana could say to that, because Rachel was right. She did grow up just fine without a mother figure, but she always wished for one, and helping Quinn would be a good thing, but there were things that were just too selfless to give up without some kind of reward.

"It's a deal with the devil."

"I'd rather call it something that doesn't sound like I'm going to hell for this. Like _arrangement_."

"Arrangement? Shelby wants you to get out of her live. _Her own daughter_. And you seriously consider letting her abandon you?"

"She doesn't want me. So why should I want her? Why should I not sign this? Why, Santana, should I hold onto a mother who doesn't even speak to me when I can help Quinn by letting go?"

"Because it's too much to ask. Yes, giving the baby up for adoption was the right thing to do. Yes, wanting to see that her baby is in good hands is a natural reaction. But asking you to give up so much is not fair." She wasn't asking. She didn't even know about the deal. But really, what did that matter anymore?

"Nothing about this situation is fair. I'm just trying to make the best of it."

"You're sort of friends now, but Quinn's been insulting and degrading to you for years. The few times she's been nice to you were just a ploy to get you to do what she wanted. She's called you names, slushied you, turned friends against you and took her insecurities out on you. She lied to you. She _slapped_ you."

"And because of that, she doesn't deserve a chance with her daughter?"

"Of course she does. I'm her best friend and I love her. She's a good person when she's not putting on the head-bitch mask. What I'm saying is that I'm not sure she deserves that chance at your expense."

"Unfortunately, Shelby has made that our only option. Tell me, Santana, if it was you and Brittany in this situation, wouldn't you make the same sacrifice?"

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Brittany loves me back." It was a low blow, but Santana had always been good at those, and she sincerely hoped that it would drive her point home.

Finally, Rachel looked up from the papers and straight into the cheerleader's eyes. "Listen to me, Santana Lopez, and listen closely. I know very well that most don't take me serious. I throw a fit, I get upset easily, I cry, I scream in a high-pitched voice, I'm known for diva tantrums. It's the way I express things that makes people want to strangle me instead of comfort me. It's the way I am and the fact that I don't try to change just to fit in that makes people ignore me. And I don't care, because if they don't understand, I can't be bothered with explaining it to them. But right now, I need _you_ to understand, so I'll do none of the things I usually do. I'll look you straight in the eyes, lower my voice, and tell you this: this is not some kind of drama or musical or movie. This is not me trying to make things more complicated or coming out a hero or manipulating people. This is real life where I fell in love with someone who doesn't even stand me and I'm realistic enough to know it's not going to work out the way I want it to. Yes, Quinn has been more than awful to me for a long time, but I've been always been able to see the sweet, caring, wonderful person underneath, or else I would've retaliated at some point or at least stopped to offer her friendship. I didn't just wake up one day and decided to seduce her because I thought it would be a cool turning point in the story to get together with her. I didn't even wake up one day and realize I'm in love with her, finally able to see the real Quinn underneath. None of that happened, because I've always seen how wonderful she can be, just like you did, and in a way, I've always known what I feel for her. I wish I didn't, because it makes things all the more painful, but that's real life, too. I love her passion and her beauty and the twirl in her step and her honest emotions. I love her intelligence and the fact that her face lights up when she sings. I love her humour and her strange friendship with you, her strength and her smile. I love her bad sides, too, because they make her complete, and because I know most of them are defence mechanisms which makes her human. I respect her. I want her to be happy. It's always been this way, but I dismissed the butterflies and the heady feeling and the heat I feel when I see her because we both know it's just _not going to happen_. She's never going to feel what I feel for her, but when you love someone, you want them to be happy no matter what. Helping her to form a relationship with her daughter is not conditioned on her loving me back. You know that, right?"

For a few seconds, it was silent in the room, and then Santana shifted and suddenly she had Rachel in her arms and they were both crying.

"You're really going to sign this, aren't you?"

Santana looked at the diva and saw a small, sad smile take over the despondent look. Rachel unfolded the papers, and after hesitating a second, shoved them into the cheerleader's hands.

"I already did."


	4. Chapter 4

**4 – The Sylvester Problem**

"I want to talk to you about certain rumours concerning you and _Quinn Fabray_."

Oh fuck. "Coach Sylvester?"

"Well, look at that. Rachel Berry, superstar in the making, sitting here all alone and looking like someone just stole her puppy."

"Coach Sylvester, I…what are you doing here?"

"I just told you, midget. I thought you were supposed to have perfect hearing?"

"I have extraordinary hearing, thank you very much. I just don't think it's any of your business."

"Everything is my business. I'm Sue Sylvester. I'm like god, only with better fashion sense. So let's hear it."

"And what, exactly, is it that you want to hear?"

"Don't get smart with me. The hallways are full of whispers about you and my captain. Something about a kiss?"

"And?" Really, what was she supposed to say?

"Are you being dumb on purpose? I want to know if it's true."

"I can't admit or deny anything concerning that rumour." Well, she could deny. If she admitted, Quinn would kill her. Slowly.

"Can't or won't?"

"Does it make a difference?"

"Look, RuPaul. Yes, I knowabout that nickname. My captain is certainly creative, isn't she? She's a powerhouse, too. Really keeps the girls in line. She's going to make it big."

"I get that." She _did_ get that. Quinn was on her way to getting the hell out of this town, and kissing the social outcast was not part of the plan.

"But I can't let her stay on the squad if I have to worry about her checking out my girls in the locker room."

"I'm sure she would never…"

"I have a reputation to uphold."

As a megalomaniacal bitch? "But Brittany and Santana…" are the poster children for lesbianism and frequently miss Cheerios practise to have some _fun time_ in the locker rooms.

"They are in a committed relationship."

No, they're not. Santana sleeps around and Brittany pretends to be with Artie. "You can't possibly…"

"I'm not going to go to Nationals with Quinn _Fagay_ as captain."

What? "You're just looking to bully someone."

"Does it make a difference?"

"Quinn is a great Cheerio. She worked so hard to get where she is. And she needs this for her college applications."

"Do you really think I care?"

Of course she didn't. Sue Sylvester didn't care about anything except making people's lives hell. But Rachel cared, maybe too much, and she wasn't about to destroy Quinn's dreams, no matter how much it hurt. "You don't have to worry about anything. The rumours are entirely wrong."

"But that's not what I'm asking."

"Then what are you asking?"

"I know that the kiss happened. But - did _you_ kiss her? Or did _she_ kiss you?"

"Again, that's none of your business."

"Except I'm making it my business. Did Quinn Fabray initiate that kiss? Or did _you_?"

Rachel hesitated. She knew exactly Quinn would want her to say. She knew exactly which answer she needed to give. "I…we…"

"_Did you_?"

The emphasis startled Rachel. Apparently, it was important to Coach Sylvester that it was Rachel who started the kiss, regardless of the fact that it wasn't true. But why? Before she could even think about lying, the older woman took a predatory step closer. "Did the captain of the Cheerios, Queen of McKinley high, all-American darling kiss the social pariah on the bottom of the food chain? Or was it the other way around?"

And suddenly, the whole thing became crystal clear. Coach Sylvester wanted her to take responsibility for the kiss for exactly the same reason Quinn did: because Quinn would lose everything if the truth came out, her status and her career in cheerleading; her parents, the epitome of Christian devotion; her chance at leaving Lima. Rachel, however, had nothing to lose. Her two dads wouldn't care, her friends wouldn't care, the rest of McKinley didn't like her anyway, and her singing career wouldn't be in danger. The only thing she would lose was her pride, and she figured it was a small price to pay. "Quinn will be staying on the squad?"

"Depends…was she disgusted by what you did?"

"She'll still be captain?"

"Did she push you away and yell at you?"

"You'll write her a recommendation letterfor any college she applies to?"

"Did she tell you to never do it again?"

Rachel heaved a heavy sigh. This was it. This was the moment that would define how much she was willing to give up for a girl who seemingly didn't even like her, but had walked up to her and kissed her without warning, and _then_ pretended like it had never happened. "Yes."

"Then…yes."

"I kissed her against her wishes. She pushed me away, and yelled at me to never come near her again." A complete lie. But worth it.

"I'm so glad to still have my captain. Thank you, Berry. You may go back to being heartbroken."


	5. Chapter 5

**5 – Getting it right**

"You're buying _Rachel Berry_ flowers?"

The parking lot of the local supermarket was overflowing with cars. It wasn't when she went in, but the half-hour search for that special brand of granola she started craving when she was pregnant and still needed sometimes to get through the day was apparently enough time for half of Lima to decide to go grocery shopping, too. Half of Lima, and Santana Lopez, who totally ignored any joke she could've made about the granola and pregnant cravings and instead focused on the flowers.

"Well, I…" What had she been thinking? Buying Rachel flowers? Was she _crazy_?

"No, don't explain. Let me get this straight…it all started after summer?"

"Uhh...yes?" In a way, it had started way before that, but after Nationals, things had changed dramatically.

"You and Rachel started to hang out more. You became good friends. Then she broke up with Finn because of your new haircut."

When it was worded like that…"The haircut was a metaphor. She broke up with him because she wasn't in love with him anymore."

"And because she had feelings for you."

"I only found out about that later, but yes."

"Then she tried to avoid you, because she was afraid you'd find out about her feelings for you and hate her."

"Yes." Which she was totally right about, by the way.

"That made you angry and you went back to fighting with each other."

"Right." Angry was an understatement.

"Then Shelby made Rachel signing over her copy right for her new songs the condition for letting you see Beth. Rachel agreed, effectively losing her mother."

"Yes." The best thing anyone had every done for her.

"Which was a huge sacrifice that made you realize that you might have feelings for her, too. Then you went and kissed her."

"It was a spur of the moment thing." And the best thing _she_ had ever done.

"But word got out about the kiss and people started confronting you about it, and you didn't want anyone to know because you were embarrassed, so Rachel lied to Coach Sylvester and took the blame."

"Yeah."

"Then you fought again, because you didn't want her to do all those nice things for you, when you have been anything _but_ nice to her for years."

"You could say that."

"And now, you're buying her flowers. Why?"

Why, indeed? Before, she'd been standing in the parking lot, trying to spot her car, granola in one hand and keys in the other, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out which way to go. Behind her, she heard the happy chatter of children, and one of them ran up to her, panting heavily. She smiled down at the small boy with his Cars backpack dramatically trying to catch his breath and dropping the bag he was carrying to the ground. Something shattered. Before she'd been able to say anything, a woman and a young girl – his mother and sister, she realized, because she recognized them from around and from church, back when she still attended service every Sunday – came into view, and the woman muttered something that sounded like „good thing we already paid for that". The children didn't seem to hear, but Quinn detected a slight note of resignation in the tone of her voice. She smiled at the family and then they were off to their car. Still rooted to her spot, strangely mesmerized by the scene, she heard the girl. „Don't you mean it's a good thing we didn't already pay for that?"

„I did pay for that", the woman said.

„But I broke it", the boy argued, neither looking nor sounding apologetic, and Quinn wondered if she was ever young enough or if her parents were ever understanding enough for her to be that innocent. „Yeah, he broke it", the girl agreed, in a tone that suggested she'd already said that sentence a lot of times in her young life. „So isn't it a bad thing that we already paid for it?"

There was no answer to that, Quinn decided, because children this young shouldn't know about sarcasm or that people say a lot of things they don't mean. They shouldn't know about irony or inflections of the voice that would give away what you really mean if anybody just listened closely enough. They shouldn't know about defence mechanisms and insulting someone when you really want to compliment them. Or rather, they shouldn't _have_ to know. Just like Rachel shouldn't have to know that whenever Quinn insulted her, she really wanted to say "I'm sorry". Or that whenever Quinn pushed her away, she really wanted to say "I like you". She shouldn't have to know that kissing her and then ignoring it was her way of saying "I feel something for you, too, but I'm scared." Rachel shouldn't have to know any of that. Quinn should just show her. Tell her. And that was when she went back and bought the flowers.

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"I asked you why you bought the flowers."

"Because I finally want to get it right."

**Fin**


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